


The Silence Left Behind

by BlueRoanSky



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Not A Happy Ending, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 10:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11553240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRoanSky/pseuds/BlueRoanSky
Summary: Bellamy looks up from his phone at her question. She doesn’t look upset, but he doesn’t want to ruin their night together. Not over Murphy and his drama. Not again. “No, it’s probably nothing,” he says. But he keeps his phone in his hand.





	The Silence Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> I almost didn't post this because it's not exactly an uplifting story, but I'd already written it, so I figured I'd post it anyway. Just another warning: this doesn't have a happy ending. 
> 
> _(Not beta-read)_

Bellamy is hanging out with Clarke in her dorm room when Murphy calls. Bellamy answers his phone after a moment’s hesitation and an apology to Clarke, turning away from her and her confused curiosity. 

“Murphy? What’s wrong?” Bellamy says. 

_“I’m alone, Bellamy. Why am I always alone?”_

Bellamy closes his eyes, suppressing a sigh. Nothing wrong, then. 

Except everything is wrong when it comes to Murphy. 

“You don’t like people, Murphy,” Bellamy says. 

“People _don’t like_ me.” Murphy’s tone is bitter in his correction. 

“Because they know you don’t like them.” 

Murphy is silent for a few moments. _“Will you come over?”_ he finally asks. 

“Murphy.” Bellamy says it like a sigh because they already talked about this. 

_“I know, I know,”_ Murphy mumbles in defeat. _“You don’t want to see me anymore.”_

“That’s not what I said.” 

_“Close enough.”_

Bellamy is the silent one this time. He glances at Clarke; sees her texting or playing a game on her phone. 

_“Bellamy—”_

“I can’t, Murphy,” Bellamy interrupts. “I’m busy. I have to go.” 

_“Yeah,”_ Murphy says. 

Bellamy ignores the guilt that that one syllable makes him feel. “I can’t always talk on the phone, Murphy. Okay? I’ll call you later.” 

He hangs up without waiting for a response and turns back to Clarke. She’s watching him now and he can’t tell if she’s upset or not. 

“Is he okay?” she asks. 

“He’s Murphy,” Bellamy says. 

She nods. She knows enough about Murphy to understand what Bellamy means. But, before Bellamy has too much time to worry about whether or not she’s upset, she smiles and gestures at the TV. “Shall we play the movie?”

 

Bellamy’s phone rings in the middle of the night and he answers it with a barely coherent greeting. 

_“Bellamy?”_

Bellamy hasn’t even managed to open his eyes yet, but Murphy sounds far too awake for whatever late or early hour it must be. 

“What’s wrong?” Bellamy asks, because it’s clear from Murphy’s voice that something is wrong. 

_“I saw her in my dream again,”_ Murphy says, his voice low and panicked. _“She’s dead, Bellamy. Why won’t she leave me alone?”_

Bellamy pushes himself into a sitting position, resigned to being awake now. He rubs his eyes as he says, “Your mother isn’t haunting you, Murphy.” 

_“I don’t want to dream of her, Bellamy.”_

“I know you don’t,” Bellamy says. He knows he should come up with more to say to help Murphy calm down, but he’s tired. His clock reads _3:23 a.m._ He has a midterm for his philosophy class in less than five hours. 

_“I wish I could just forget about her,”_ Murphy says, almost too quietly for Bellamy to hear. 

“She’s your mother, Murphy. You’re not going to be able to forget about her.” 

_“I want to,”_ Murphy says. _“I want to forget all about her and her drinking. She hated me, Bellamy. Just like everyone else. You’re the only one that doesn’t hate me.”_

“She didn’t hate you,” Bellamy says because he can’t bring himself to say anything more reassuring. 

Murphy’s breath hitches. _“Then why would she tell me that she hated me? Why would she hit me? Blame me for my father’s death? Let her boyfriends—”_ He breaks off, but Bellamy already knows about the treatment Murphy received at the hands of his mother and her numerous boyfriends during his childhood. 

“Your mother was messed up,” Bellamy finally says. “She didn’t mean what she said those times.” 

_“Now I’m messed up.”_ Murphy laughs once, but it’s an unhappy sound. _“Thanks, Mother.”_

Bellamy glances at the clock again. He can still get a couple hours of sleep if he goes back to bed right now. “Murphy, I have to sleep.” 

Murphy is quiet for a moment. When he speaks, his tone is flat. _“You can’t always talk on the phone. I remember.”_

Bellamy knows Murphy is hurt, but he also knows that he can’t do anything about it. So he just says, “No, I cant.” 

_“Sorry to bother you,”_ Murphy says, and hangs up.

 

Murphy calls again when Bellamy is halfway through his second dinner date with Clarke. He promises her that the phone call will be quick. She looks unhappy, but he answers anyway, hoping she’ll understand. 

“Murphy, what do you need now?” Bellamy asks, his tone sharper than he intended. 

_“I just need to talk to you,”_ Murphy says. _“Is that not okay anymore?”_

“I told you that you can’t keep calling me like this,” Bellamy says. 

_“I thought we were supposed to be there for each other. Aren’t we supposed to be friends?”_

Guilt from Murphy’s words claws at Bellamy’s conscience, but he’s distracted from it by Clarke’s hand on his shoulder. He looks over and frowns when he sees that she’s standing; her purse slung over her shoulder. 

“I’m going to go, Bellamy,” she says. 

“I’ll be off the phone in just a minute,” Bellamy says. “I promise.” 

She smiles unhappily. “I’m sure you mean that. But I don’t want to sit here feeling like I’m second-best.” 

“Clarke—” 

“Just figure out your priorities, okay?” she says, not unkindly. “Call me when you do.” 

She leaves before he can think of something to say to make her understand. But it’s not her that’s the problem. He knows that. 

_“Bellamy?”_ Murphy’s tone is unsure. 

And Bellamy is suddenly angry. “You can’t just call me whenever you feel like it, Murphy.” 

_“You don’t have to pick up, you know,”_ Murphy snaps. 

“What else am I supposed to do? We’re supposed to be friends, right? So if you call, I’m supposed to pick up, right?” Bellamy pauses when he sees people looking at him, and he realizes that he can’t do this. Not here, not right now. “Just…stop calling me when you’re lonely, Murphy. Go out and make more friends. I can’t be your only friend anymore.” 

_“Yeah, ‘cause so many people like me.”_

Bellamy sighs. “Figure it out yourself for once,” he says, and this time, he hangs up.

 

Bellamy does as Clarke asked and figures out his priorities. So when Murphy calls again a couple days later, Bellamy’s made his decision. 

_“Bellamy!”_ Murphy says too-loudly into the phone. His voice is slurred and that, coupled with the noise in the background, gives clues to Murphy’s whereabouts. 

“Are you at a party?” Bellamy asks, momentarily distracted from his original purpose for answering. 

_“You told me t’ make more friends, so I ‘m,”_ Murphy says. _“Or ‘m tryin’ to.”_

“That’s good.” The knot in Bellamy’s stomach loosens. Maybe this won’t be such a terrible phone call after all. “That’s great, actually.” 

_“Problem is…”_ Murphy continues, as though he hasn’t heard Bellamy at all, _“problem is no one likes me. You’re th’ only one that likes me, Bellamy. Th’ only one that cares.”_

And Bellamy’s heart sinks. “I do care, Murph,” he says quietly. “But…” 

_“I know you do,”_ Murphy interrupts. _“S’why I called you. ‘Cause you care.”_

“I do care, but I need you to listen to me, Murph,” Bellamy says. “Are you listening?” 

_“Sure.”_

Bellamy isn’t positive that Murphy is fully comprehending his words, but he decides to say them anyway before he loses his nerve. “I’ll always care, Murphy. But I can’t keep being your friend. Not right now. Clarke and I… We’re trying to build a relationship, and I can’t give her the attention and care that she deserves if I’m also trying to take care of you. Do you understand?” 

Murphy doesn’t respond right away, but when he does, he sounds more clear-headed than he did before. _“Do you love Clarke?”_

The question takes Bellamy by surprise, and it takes him a moment to formulate his response. “I think I do, yeah.” 

Murphy is silent for so long that Bellamy checks to make sure that the phone call is still going. 

“Murphy?” Bellamy says, but receives no response. After a minute, Bellamy sighs. “I’m going to hang up now, okay? And I’m not going to answer your calls after this. Not until Clarke and I have things figured out.” He waits again for a response that doesn’t come. “I’m sorry, Murph.” 

And the line goes dead.

 

Bellamy is at the movie theater with Clarke when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulls it out, only slightly surprised when he sees Murphy’s name on the screen. His thumb hovers over the answer button, hesitant for just a moment until Clarke shifts against his arm and Bellamy remembers his new conviction to not let Murphy interfere with his relationship anymore. 

So he doesn’t answer. 

It’s nearly midnight when he and Clarke leave the movie theater. Out of habit, he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check it and frowns at the message reading _1 new voicemail_. Clarke looks up at him, her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Something wrong?” she asks. 

“Uh, no,” Bellamy says, unsure how to explain the sick feeling building in his stomach. He stops walking and she pauses a step ahead of him. “I… Well, Murphy called when we were in the movie, and he… He left a voicemail.” 

“Oh,” she says. Then, after a moment, “He hasn’t called since you told him not to, right? That was about a week, two weeks ago?” 

“Yeah,” Bellamy says. “Why did he leave a voicemail? He never leaves voicemails.” 

“Are you going to listen to it?” 

Bellamy looks up from his phone at her question. She doesn’t look upset, but he doesn’t want to ruin their night together. Not over Murphy and his drama. Not again. “No, it’s probably nothing,” he says. But he keeps his phone in his hand. 

“If you think it’s important, you should listen to it,” Clarke says. “Like you said, he never leaves voicemails.” 

“Murphy hates voicemails,” Bellamy says, more to himself. “Are you sure you’re okay with it?” 

“I’m okay, Bellamy. Just listen to it.” 

He pauses for a moment and then plays the voicemail. There’s just silence for the first few seconds. Then Murphy speaks. 

_“I knew you wouldn’t pick up.”_

His voice sounds strange. Empty and tired. 

_“That’s why I called you, actually,”_ Murphy’s voice continues. _“Not that I have anyone else to call anyway, but I didn’t want anyone answering. That would’ve fucked everything up.”_

Bellamy’s heart rate quickens. Clarke steps toward him, the concern on her face growing, but he turns away from her. 

_“I knew you’d stop caring one day,”_ Murphy’s voice says, still so empty and tired. _“I thought it’d be sooner than this, but I can be wrong about that. Not dead wrong, though. I’m not dead, you know. Not yet. But I will be soon, if I took enough of these pills.”_

Bellamy inhales sharply. He turns to Clarke, can barely choke out, “Call 9-1-1. Send them to Murphy’s apartment.” 

“Bellamy, what’s—” 

“Now!” he snaps. 

She looks upset, but she pulls her own phone out of her purse. 

He turns his attention back to the voicemail. 

_“—Just want it to be over,”_ Murphy’s voice is saying; heedless to Bellamy’s panic. _“I’m so tired. I just want to be done. I don’t know what I’m living for anymore anyway. And no one cares. I know you know that ‘cause you don’t care anymore, and that’s okay. I thought I wanted someone to care, but I was wrong.”_

From far away, Clarke’s voice says, “They’re sending an ambulance, but they want to know what’s going on. Bellamy?” 

But he can’t listen to her. Murphy’s voice is getting slower now, his words slurring together. 

_“Really, I just wanted it to be over. Just…wanted everything to be…over. God, I’m so…tired. So…”_

His voice trails off. Bellamy is gripping his phone so tight that it hurts, but it doesn’t hurt more than the sound of silence that lasts until the voicemail cuts off.

 

It’s months later when Bellamy is finally able to visit Murphy’s grave. He has so many things that he wants to say—apologies and explanations. He thinks of them on the way there, but when he stops in front of Murphy’s headstone, all the words die on Bellamy’s tongue. He can’t make himself speak, so he just stands there and reads Murphy’s name over and over. 

He stays silent until he can’t stand being in the cemetery any longer. He thinks that he should at least say good-bye, but he doesn’t. 

He just walks away in the silence that Murphy left behind.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought about trying to flesh the story out more, but thought that might be trying to add too much into it. But I might write an extended version someday. Thank you for reading.


End file.
